BMW’s Spider-Man promotion isn’t drawing criticism because it’s advertising a movie. It’s drawing criticism because it violates one of the last places consumers still expected to control: their own car.
For years, automakers have argued that connected vehicles represent the next great media platform. Larger touchscreens, software updates, app ecosystems, and connected services have all created new opportunities to monetize the driving experience. BMW’s decision to autoplay a trailer for Spider-Man: Brand New Day on the dashboards of eligible vehicles illustrates exactly why consumers have been wary of that vision all along.
The backlash has very little to do with Spider-Man. It has everything to do with consent.
Luxury has always been built on the promise of control. Customers spend tens of thousands of dollars for a premium experience that feels quieter, more refined, and less intrusive than the alternatives. When an advertisement unexpectedly appears on the dashboard after starting the vehicle, that promise begins to erode. Consumers are not questioning BMW’s partnership with Sony. They are questioning whether buying a luxury vehicle still means owning the experience inside it.
From a marketing perspective, the decision also misunderstands the relationship between attention and engagement. Just because someone cannot easily avoid a message does not mean they are more receptive to it. In fact, the opposite is often true. Forced attention frequently generates resentment, turning what should have been a positive brand partnership into a conversation about intrusive advertising instead of an upcoming blockbuster.
The comparison to Apple’s decision to automatically place U2’s Songs of Innocence album into millions of iPhones is difficult to ignore. The content itself was not the problem. Many people like U2, just as many people will likely enjoy the next Spider-Man film. The backlash came from the assumption that companies had earned the right to make decisions on behalf of consumers without asking first. More than a decade later, marketers should know that removing choice is almost always remembered longer than the campaign itself.
The irony is that BMW had an opportunity to create something genuinely memorable. Rather than interrupting owners with an autoplay trailer, the company could have offered an opt-in experience that rewarded fans for participating. Imagine enabling Peter Parker as a navigation voice, unlocking Spider-Man-themed ambient lighting, or offering an augmented reality driving experience parked safely at home. Those activations would have transformed the collaboration from an interruption into entertainment while allowing customers to choose whether they wanted to participate.
The broader lesson extends well beyond automotive marketing. As software becomes central to more consumer products, brands will continue looking for new surfaces on which to advertise. The companies that succeed will recognize that not every screen is an advertising opportunity simply because it exists. Some screens are part of the product customers already paid for, and respecting that distinction may become one of the strongest brand differentiators of the next decade.
BMW has built its reputation by delivering a premium ownership experience. The company should be careful not to redefine that experience as one where customers can buy luxury, but still cannot buy freedom from unwanted advertising.